


Stubborn With Beauty

by whetherwoman



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2008, merlin's magic is discovered, recipient:scribblemoose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whetherwoman/pseuds/whetherwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur strode to the fire and held the note to the light. "For the help I once gave you, I plead a boon in return of the kind only you can give. Please meet me in the lands of Lord Turquine beyond the woods of Perivale. Signed--" Arthur looked up at Merlin sharply. "Signed Lancelot?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stubborn With Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO MUCH to voksen for brainstorming and discovering late-night typos, and Franzi for help that went above and beyond betaing. Seriously, I feel like I should give her co-writing credit. And everyone in #yuletide for debating the proper period terms for certain body parts, not to mention the cheerleading. I stole the characters Turquine and Croisette from Howard Pyle's Story of the Champions of the Round Table. The title is from the poem Taliesin by R. S. Thomas.
> 
> Update 2011: uh, yeah, this was written first season. I haven't watched much Merlin since then, so I'm sure it's gone wildly AU.

"Sire," Merlin said hesitantly.

"What now?" Arthur grumbled, sprawled in his fur-lined chair before the fire. It had been snowy and cold all week, and Arthur was starting to show the effects of being cooped up inside the castle, unable to train or fight. "If you want to get out of cleaning my tunic, you're out of luck. The feast tonight is the only blessed thing I've been required to leave my room for since Saturday, and I will not miss it, wine stains or no."

"Oh no, it's not that," Merlin said, fidgeting. "I've done that already, promise." He thought guiltily of the tunic hung in the closet, still wine-stained, and promised himself that he'd get to it as soon as he left Arthur. "It's, ah... I have a request."

"Well, spit it out," Arthur said moodily, staring into the fire.

"I... I would like to take a leave of absence. A short one, no more than a week or two, I think. It's, ah, to visit my mother, for a—for a holiday celebration?"

"Hmph." Arthur frowned at the fire, and Merlin braced himself for an argument, but then Arthur sat straight up and beamed at him. "Of course! Brilliant! I'll go with you. Your mother will be so pleased to see me, and I'll get out of this blasted castle for a nice ride instead of wasting away by the fire. Great idea, Merlin, we'll leave at once."

Merlin realized he was gaping, and snapped his mouth shut. "I don't—maybe you shouldn't—" He thought frantically. "It would be far too rough for you, sire, uh—cold, you know, sleeping on the ground, you'd have to chop wood, just not suitable, um." He stuttered to a halt.

"Nonsense," Arthur said cheerily, getting up and clapping him on the shoulder. "We leave at once. Gather my clothing and harness the horses."

Merlin didn't move.

"Well?" Arthur frowned. "What? You look like a goose standing there, get a move on!"

"Er..." Merlin said hesitantly.

 _"What?"_ Arthur said.

"It's not actually my mother," Merlin spit out in a rush. "I just got this note this morning, and I didn't think you'd like it so I was just hoping to, but of course that didn't work, but seriously, you won't like it and you should just let me go."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin. "You are a piss-poor liar and if it wasn't amusing watching you fall over yourself you'd be in the stocks right now. In the snow." He raised his eyebrows significantly. "Hand it over, then."

"What?"

"Come on, hand it over." Arthur snapped his fingers. "The note, Merlin, how slow can you get? Hand. Over. The note."

Merlin fumbled in his tunic and reluctantly handed over the note.

Arthur strode to the fire and held the note to the light. "For the help I once gave you, I plead a boon in return of the kind only you can give. Please meet me in the lands of Lord Turquine beyond the woods of Perivale. Signed—" Arthur looked up at Merlin sharply. "Signed _Lancelot?_ "

Merlin took a deep breath. "Yes." He straightened his shoulders. "He saved my life, Arthur. I'm not going to forget that."

Arthur stared at him a moment, then abruptly turned away to the fire. "Hmph. Well. That reflects well on you, I suppose." He paused for a minute, staring at the fire. Merlin tried not to fidget. Arthur gave a soft sigh, his eyes seeing beyond the stones in front of him. Merlin thought Arthur probably had no idea how young he looked with his eyes half closed like that, his lips parted softly. He turned abruptly, and Merlin tried without success to control his jump of surprise. "I'll go with you."

"What? No!" Merlin burst out in surprise.

"You forget yourself, Merlin," Arthur said, fully the warrior prince again, all traces of a young dreamer put aside. "Telling your prince what to do. You are the worst servant in the world, I swear." He strode to his wardrobe and began pulling clothes out and tossing them on the bed. "You're lucky I'm allowing you to come with me."

Merlin hesitated. _A boon of the kind only you can give_ , Lancelot's note had read. That could only mean one thing: magic. Merlin didn't fool himself that his skills with sword or poultice would be useful to a man of Lancelot's skill. And having Arthur along in a situation requiring the use of magic... well, it certainly wasn't ideal.

He decided to give it one last shot. "But your father—he won't want you to be out in this weather, and—and he won't like that it's Lancelot."

Arthur looked down, fiddling with the tunic in his hands. When he looked up at Merlin, his eyes were clear and piercing. "He saved my life as well, Merlin," he said quietly. "I owe him as you do."

"Right," Merlin said, gulping. Arthur's non-prat side always seemed to burst out in the most inconvenient possible way. And the most pigheaded way possible too, so at this point they'd just have to make the best of it. Arthur hadn't discovered his secret yet, anyway.

"We'll just tell my father we're going somewhere else," Arthur added airily, tossing through his clothes again. "To visit your mother for the holidays. Sometimes you do have a passable idea for a lie, even if you're rubbish at follow-through." He headed for the door, dropping a large pile of clothes in Merlin's arm and clapping him on the back. "Pack my things and prepare the horses—I don't want your tell-tale face within fifty meters when I tell my father we're going!"

Merlin stared at Arthur's retreating back helplessly, and the door closed with a final slam behind him.

* * *

Arthur practically lit up as Camelot fell out of sight behind the hills. He sat straight in his saddle as they trotted through the snow, the thick winter coats of their horses rippling as they moved. Color was coming to his cheeks in the cold, and his eyes were large and bright in a way Merlin hadn't seen in weeks. Arthur drew in a deep breath.

"We're not galloping," Merlin said preemptively.

Arthur deflated. "I wasn't going to suggest that," he said, obviously aiming for grumpy but with too much sparkle in his eye for Merlin to take him seriously.

"The snow is six inches thick," Merlin pointed out. "The horses would tire out within a furlong. And it's a two-day ride no matter how fast we go today, you know that."

Arthur heaved a melodramatic sigh. "Always spoiling my fun, Merlin."

Merlin rolled his eyes, and so was caught completely by surprise when a handful of snow smacked against the side of his face. He shrieked, unfortunately high-pitched, and sputtered as Arthur practically fell off his horse laughing.

Merlin narrowed his eyes, but of course Arthur was oblivious. As Arthur laughed his fool head off, Merlin carefully guided his horse to the nearest tree, scraped a handful of snow off the branches, and packed it tightly in his hands.

Arthur's laughter cut short as he got a snowball right in the face.

After that they were off, floundering through the snow, snowballs and laughter flying through the air. A few minutes in Merlin slid to the ground, breathless with laughter, trying to gain a brief respite with his horse as his shield, but that simply moved the game to the ground. Soon they were ducking around trees, each trying to trap the other on open ground. Merlin could have won if only he could have stopped laughing long enough to say the words for a spell to direct his aim, but as it was, Arthur knocked him into a drift with a full body tackle.

"Do you yield?" Arthur grinned ferociously.

Merlin gestured helplessly, trying to communicate that yes, yes he would yield if only he had the breath for it. Arthur's head above Merlin was framed by evergreen branches and overcast sky. His blond hair took on that halo-ish look it did sometimes with the light behind it. He had a strange expression on his face, almost like the fond one he wore sometimes, but... different.

And then he was gone, halfway back to their patiently waiting horses before Merlin struggled out of the drift. "Come on, then, we'll want to travel at least another meter before sundown. I swear, Merlin, anyone would think you never wanted to get to Lancelot."

"Me?" Merlin complained, ineffectually trying to brush the snow off his clothes. Oh, he was going to be cold once that melted through. "I wasn't the one who started that whole thing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur said airily, but Merlin could see the grin still lurking at the corner of his mouth. Somehow that was enough to warm him as they continued on.

* * *

It was dark and close in the tent, warmer than outside, but Merlin couldn't shake the chill from his limbs. He pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders and listened to Arthur breathe.

"Why you?" Arthur said suddenly.

"What?" Merlin said, blinking up into the dark.

"A boon of the kind only you can give," Arthur recited softly. "What Lancelot said in the note. What did he mean? Why's he asking you?"

Merlin gulped, willing his racing heart to slow. "Some people do value my skills, sire." He tried his best to sound put out and sincere, grateful for the dark that hid his face for once.

"Oh, you know that's not what I mean," Arthur said, irritated and fond. "You're good enough, Merlin, but you know you're nothing special."

"Yes, sire," Merlin said around the sudden lump in his throat. He kept thinking he'd gotten over the foolhardy urge to reveal himself and put his life on the line, and then something like this would happen.

"Merlin..." said Arthur. Merlin waited, but seconds passed before Arthur burst out, "You're _my_ manservant. That's plenty special, damn it, Merlin, you're _my_ manservant so what does he want with you?"

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, grateful for the rush of cold air down his throat. "It's probably just... I don't know, sire, probably just some poultice, or—or simply that I'm the only one he felt he had a claim on."

"A claim." Arthur's voice sounded flat.

"I—I know he felt he had caused you more trouble than—than he was worth." Merlin's teeth started to chatter, making his speech rough.

"Oh, for—get over here," Arthur said, disgusted.

"What?" Merlin asked, feeling cold and stupid.

"Roll. Over." Arthur enunciated, reaching out and pulling Merlin's bedroll until he was right up against Arthur's side. Arthur pulled at their blankets until they were both in a little cocoon, arms and legs touching. Merlin's whole side was warm, and his shivers slowly subsided.

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin said quietly.

"Don't be stupid," Arthur grumbled. "Not a bit of fat on you. You'd probably be dead out here if it wasn't for me."

"If that's what you'd like to tell yourself," Merlin grinned, accepting the elbow jab in his side with grace and fortitude.

* * *

"Ho!"

Lancelot stood out on the hilltop, he and his prancing horse framed by blue sky where he waved at them. Merlin felt his heart leap at the picture and almost stood in his stirrups waving back. Lancelot's horse reared, and then galloped down the hill towards them, pulling up at the bottom of the hill in a showy spray of snow.

"Well met!" Lancelot called out. "Merlin, I am deeply grateful for your response to my request."

"Of course," Merlin said, grinning wildly. Lancelot always seemed to bring out the boy in him who'd stayed up nights listening to stories of knights and Camelot. He looked over at Arthur, expecting to share that joy, but Arthur was frowning. He didn't quite look angry, but definitely... thoughtful.

"And Prince Arthur." Lancelot dismounted and fell to one knee. "This is an unexpected honor, and a most welcome one."

Arthur nodded, most of the wrinkles in his forehead evening out. "When Merlin told me of your message, I could do nothing else but come."

Lancelot looked up. "And I am truly grateful to have your assistance. Lord Turquine has been capturing any defenseless lady that rides through his lands for many years, keeping them in foul imprisonment for a ransom that seldom arrives. He is a serious foe, and all the force we can muster against him will be needed."

Arthur dismounted and clasped Lancelot by the forearm, pulling him to his feet. "Then come. We'll go to your camp, you'll tell us about this Lord Turquine, and we'll bring him down. Merlin, bring the horses."

Merlin sighed and dismounted, gathering the reins of the three horses. As Arthur led Lancelot off, arm around his shoulder, Lancelot cast a worried look over his shoulder at Merlin. Merlin sighed again and bit his lip, knowing what Lancelot was thinking.

Something required Merlin's magic, and how could Merlin help with Arthur watching his every move?

* * *

Merlin poked the fire with a long branch, sending sparks up into the night. He had volunteered for the first watch, sure he wouldn't get to sleep easily after hearing Lancelot's half-baked plan, made even better by Arthur's absurd additions. He took a deep breath and held it a second. Everything would be fine. Even if he still had no idea what Lancelot needed his magic for. He let the breath out in a gust.

"Heavy sigh," Lancelot said, sitting down next to him.

Merlin jumped. "Lancelot! You're awake! Uh, your watch isn't for another hour yet."

"I know," Lancelot said quietly. "I got up to speak with you."

Merlin glanced nervously at Arthur, but he was sprawled in his bedroll, his mouth open, obviously fast asleep. "About... about magic, right?" he whispered.

"Yes," Lancelot said, staring at the fire. "There was much I did not tell Prince Arthur. I had not expected him to come with you."

"Yes, well," Merlin said, rolling his eyes, "there's not much anyone can do to stop him once he gets an idea in his head. So tell me about what you want me for, then."

Lancelot didn't lift his eyes. "As I told you earlier, I managed to rescue one of the maidens Turquine captured, the Lady Croisette. From her reports and from what I saw myself, the source of Turquine's invincibility is a glowing stone hidden at the very center of his castle."

"Yes, yes, you said," Merlin said impatiently. "The stone must be broken or no blow will ever get through Turquine's armor, so Arthur's going to sneak in and smash the stone."

"It won't be that simple." Lancelot raised his eyes and looked directly at Merlin. "The stone is not simply sitting in the open for anyone to find. Turquine has guarded it with hollow knights, suits of armor that move and fight on their own with nothing inside. I have seen them with my own eyes. That is why I could not smash the stone myself, why I have pulled you into what should have been my fight." Lancelot reached out and grasped Merlin's shoulder, holding his gaze steadily. "You must believe I did not intend to put you in a situation where you would be at risk of revealing your secret."

"Of course, Lancelot," Merlin said, shaking his head. "Of course you wouldn't, I know that. I'll—I'll handle it somehow. Don't worry about it."

Lancelot searched Merlin's eyes. Whatever he was looking for, he found it, for he nodded sharply and gave Merlin's shoulder a thump before looking into the fire again. They sat in silence for several minutes, the only sound the crackle of the fire.

"Are you well, Merlin?" Lancelot said finally.

"Oh—oh yes, it's been... Well, you know." Merlin shrugged. "It's been a tough year, but I think a good one. Overall."

"Does Arthur... no, I'm sorry, I should not be asking this."

Merlin looked up, startled. "What? You can ask me anything you want, Lancelot, you know that."

Lancelot frowns into the fire. "I just... Does Arthur—treat you well? Is he a good master to you?"

Merlin blinks. "I don't know that I've ever thought about it quite that way. I suppose he is, I mean, overall. He can be a bit of a prat, and I could do with less armor cleaning, of course, but..." He stared thoughtfully into the fire, then looked up at Lancelot. "He's my friend. That's what it is. I don't think of him as... He's my friend."

Lancelot smiled. "That is the best anyone could hope for."

Unaccountably, Merlin could feel himself flushing. He leaned closer to the fire, hoping that would explain it, should Lancelot see.

But Lancelot was looking into the fire himself, frowning again. "It's only that..." he said hesitantly. "I hope you'll excuse my saying this, Merlin, but he does seem to... he sometimes treats you..."

Merlin snorted. "Yes, I know. He's just—it's just how he does things." Merlin shrugs. "He's a prat sometimes, no denying it, but he... He's a good man."

"Absolutely," Lancelot agreed quickly. "A truly noble man and prince. I just meant..." He looked at Merlin sideways. "Have you ever thought you might deserve... different?"

The unaccountable flush would not leave, and Merlin couldn't think of a thing to say. He shrugged again, keeping his mouth shut.

Lancelot looked at him for a second more, then sighed. "Go to bed, Merlin. I'll watch from here out. And... thank you."

Merlin grinned, embarrassed but glad for a chance to escape the fire on his face and Lancelot's questions. "Tomorrow," he said, as he got into his bedroll beside Arthur's.

"Tomorrow," said Lancelot.

* * *

"I still think you should have stayed behind as backup," Arthur said, sitting stiffly on his horse.

"I still think you're insane!" Merlin said, staring openly.

Arthur was certainly a picture. His head was bound with a scarf, hiding all his hair except a few artistic bits in the front, and it trailed behind him, rippling through the air. He wore a small sheer veil over the lower half of his face, softening his chin and making his lips look even plumper than usual.

And he was riding side-saddle, because he was wearing a dress.

Arthur rolled his eyes so strongly he actually rolled his head. "We've talked and talked and _talked_ about it, Merlin, this is the best way to get into the castle without a full frontal assault! Turquine captures ladies, therefore to get inside the castle one of us pretends to be a lady. And you were quite vehement that—"

"Yes, no, everything we agreed is definitely still true," Merlin said hurriedly. "They'd never believe a lady was traveling alone, and they'd certainly never believe someone who's obviously a warrior like you couldn't fight them off. I definitely have to be your very male, yet helpless, servant. Very true. Not arguing."

Arthur snorted. "The day you stop arguing, Merlin, will be the day the world ends."

"Yes, well, maybe if you didn't keep doing insane things..." Merlin grumbled.

"Insane!" Arthur spluttered. "I'm not the one who keeps throwing myself into danger here!"

"What are you on about?" Merlin said, drawing himself up indignantly.

"Throwing yourself in front of knives! Drinking something you know is poison! Going off to fight bandits without the faintest idea of how to—"

"What—you were there! You're the one going along when—when there's no need to—"

"You would be going into this ridiculous business alone if it weren't for me! Who would protect you, your precious Lancelot?"

"Lancelot is the best knight I've ever met!"

Arthur gaped momentarily, too angry to speak, both of them red in the face and breathing hard. Merlin felt like he was on fire, ready to take on whatever stupid argument Arthur pulled out—

—and then three tall knights in black armor stepped out of the trees. Within seconds, one stood in front of them, one behind, and the third had a sword at Merlin's throat.

Merlin gulped and raised his hands. Without a word, the knights began to lead them through the woods to Turquine's castle.

* * *

The plan went off without a hitch. They were brought to the castle, into Lord Turquine's hall, sat through his whole explanation of how they would be held for ransom without him seeing through Arthur's disguise, were thrown in a cell, waited until the guards left, and escaped using the key Lancelot's Lady Croisette had smuggled out with her and which Arthur had hidden in his bodice.

Except that Arthur didn't speak to Merlin once, not until he had grimly ripped off his dress and thrown it into the corner of the cell. He had been wearing trousers and his sword belt underneath the skirt, and Merlin silently took off the shirt he had been wearing over his own and handed it over.

Arthur pulled it on and heaved a deep breath. "Thanks," he said, and tossed Merlin the extra short sword.

"Yeah," Merlin said.

"No, I—I mean it," Arthur said, scuffing his toe through the straw underfoot. "I'm sorry for—for what I said. About Lancelot. And you. Because I appreciate it."

"Oh," said Merlin, surprised. "Well. It's not—I don't mind. It's fine."

Arthur nodded shortly and started up the stairs out of the dungeon. "I just think—It's absurd to be upset about you and—and Lancelot when there's real evil in the world."

Merlin nodded, and thought about the girls curled up in the cell across from theirs, their skinny faces looking on, staring hopelessly as Merlin and Arthur made their escape.

"Like those knights," Arthur added, surprising Merlin. "They're made with sorcery, they must be. Did you notice they didn't say a word?"

"The knights?" Merlin said, gulping. "I thought they were just... quiet?"

"No one's that quiet," Arthur said. He paused at the top of the stairs to sneak a quick look around the corner, then gestured Merlin forward. "And in Turquine's hall... There was one knight with his visor up. Did you see?"

"No," Merlin lied, suppressing a shiver at the thought.

"He was empty, Merlin," Arthur whispered ominously. "There was nothing inside the armor."

"Oh," Merlin said faintly. "That's—"

"Shh!" Arthur interrupted, clapping a hand over Merlin's mouth and dragging him into an alcove. Merlin tried to breath quietly through his nose, Arthur's hand warm and slightly sweaty against his mouth.

They stood still, squeezed together in the alcove, as Turquine's guards marched past. Arthur waited a full ten deep breaths after they were out of sight, long enough for Merlin to start to feel twitchy.

Finally Arthur let him go and started back down the corner. Merlin followed, licking his lips and tasting salt.

"Anyway, as I was saying," Arthur murmured, as Merlin drew along side him, "these knights prove the true evil that exists in the world, in sorcerers."

Merlin bit his lip, but couldn't help himself. "You don't—you can't really believe all sorcery is evil, Arthur, what about Will? Driving off those bandits wasn't evil. And—and the druid boy, you helped him—"

"Don't tell me what I _can't_ believe." Arthur's voice rose.

"Shh, Arthur—" Merlin begged.

"No, this magic is evil and I can't even believe you're trying to justify this!" Arthur stopped dead in the middle of the hall to glare at Merlin, then spun on his heel and slammed open the nearest door. "This has to be the room where—" He broke off.

Merlin edged in behind him and saw why Arthur stopped. It was, indeed, the right room. A platform at the back of the room held a pedestal, and although he couldn't see the top of it from this angle, whatever was there emanated a sickly green glow.

And between them and the pedestal were three of the empty knights, tall and bulky and with swords already drawn.

"Back to back!" Arthur ordered, stepping further into the room to gain them some space, and Merlin hurried in, drawing his sword. He placed his own back to Arthur's and stood at the ready.

The knights closed in.

Merlin thanked his stars for all the weapons training Arthur had forced on him, even the sessions that amounted to Arthur knocking him down and then mocking him. He was able to defend himself against the knight facing him while still devoting an ounce of his attention to the spell he wanted to use. Trusting the clash of sword against sword and armor to cover him, he whispered the spell.

The shoulder-piece of the knight fighting him fell to the ground with a clatter.

"What was that?" Arthur yelped.

"Try to cut off pieces of their armor!" Merlin yelled back, hoping Arthur wouldn't press the question.

Thankfully he didn't, and Merlin kept whispering, and piece by piece the suits of armor fell to the ground. The two knights facing each of them fell at the same time, and as one they turned to face the third knight, who had hung back guarding the pedestal.

It didn't move.

Merlin held his breath.

The knight simply collapsed in a pile of armor as if strings had been cut.

"Huh," said Arthur.

"Uh, yes," said Merlin, biting his lip. "That's strange."

"It is," said Arthur slowly, staring at the pile of armor. "I wonder why it did that."

"Can't say," Merlin said brightly, then winced at the tone of his voice. "Uh, but it's lucky!"

"Very lucky," Arthur said. He stepped forward and kicked the pieces of armor meditatively. "Although lucky things like this do seem to happen around you." He turned to Merlin, chewing on his lower lip and looking troubled.

"We should smash the stone," Merlin suggested nervously. "Lancelot's out there right now fighting Lord Turquine, and Turquine's invincible until we do this."

"Yes," Arthur said, still frowning. He turned and climbed the dais. He looked once more over his shoulder at Merlin, then raised his sword high.

* * *

They ran back through the castle, taking no care to hide after realizing the empty knights were immobile, merely suits of armor now. Merlin was panting as he hadn't during the fight, great gasps of air pushing him on towards Lancelot.

They passed through the gate together and skidded to a halt. There, on the green, were Turquine and Lancelot, bashing away at each other. Smashing the stone had obviously worked, as Turquine's armor had great gashes in it, some trickling blood. But Lancelot had never been invulnerable, and his armor had its own trickling gashes. Both men were swaying on their feet. Merlin held his breath.

Turquine lifted his sword high in the air, bellowing, and brought it down on Lancelot with everything he had. Lancelot stumbled, then fell to his knees.

"No!" Arthur yelled, and started running forward as Turquine lifted his sword for the final blow.

The world slowed down for Merlin. Turquine turned towards Arthur, redirecting his sword. Arthur didn't even have a helm. Turquine had reached the top of his swing. Lancelot couldn't seem to lift his own sword, even as his head turned directly towards Merlin.

Merlin felt very clear and calm as he lifted his arm towards the tableau and said the spell.

The armor exploded off Turquine, shooting in every direction, even his sword breaking into pieces and flying into the air. Turquine stood stupidly in his leathers, empty handed.

And then Arthur was there, and Turquine was dead.

* * *

Arthur stood over Turquine's body, chest heaving. Merlin stood frozen for a moment, still in the calm clearness of battle. Then he took a hesitant step forward, Arthur's head snapped around, and the world fell back into place.

"You," Arthur growled, dropping his sword and stomping towards Merlin. "You miserable, cowardly, lying little _sorcerer_."

Merlin kept himself from taking a step back by sheer force of will. He gripped his elbows, trying to keep from shaking, and raised his chin, ready to die with dignity.

"You _lied_ to me, over and over! The flames with the afanc—the wind at your village—that was _you._ " Arthur was right in Merlin's face now, almost spitting. "Say it, sorcerer. I want to hear it from your lying mouth."

"Yes." It came out wobbly, and he cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes, I'm a sorcerer. That was—all that was me."

The expression on Arthur's face changed, but Merlin couldn't tell what he was thinking. He took a step back, his hands clenched into fists. "You give me no choice. What do you—what do you think I can do, in the face of a blatant admission? You're—this is death for you, do you understand?"

Merlin nodded, not trusting his voice. Arthur's nostrils flared, and he ran a hand through his hair, looking almost more frustrated than angry. He opened his mouth as if he were about to speak again, but a noise from behind interrupted.

Lancelot had managed to push himself up on one knee, but he was wavering dangerously. Merlin took a step towards him automatically, but Arthur's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Arthur opened his mouth again, then closed it and took a step back, his hand dropping. "You see to him. I'll—I'll be in the castle. Someone needs to unlock the dungeons," he said viciously, and was gone.

Merlin hurried to Lancelot and got under his arm to lift him up. "Come on," he said with a sigh. "I'll get you bandaged up."

* * *

They stayed in the castle that evening, and it was pure chance that Merlin happened to pass by Arthur's room after his evening meal. It wasn't purposeful; he certainly didn't want to talk with Arthur right now, not when he knew there was no use in trying to explain anything. Even if he would like to explain to Arthur, which he wouldn't, because there was no use, now was not the time.

But somehow he ended up in front of Arthur's door, and that was how he heard the voices inside.

"I didn't come to discuss this!" That was Lancelot, his voice at a pitch Merlin had never heard before. "I simply wanted to see whether you were all right, since nobody told me a thing and the last thing I knew was that you battled an army of magical knights and then killed Turquine for me!"

"Then you shouldn't have brought it up." That was Arthur, sounding positively venomous. "It's none of your business, and even if it were, it's out of my hands. The law is the law. And for your information, I'm perfectly fine."

"I beg your pardon for saying this, _Prince_ Arthur, but it is my business." Lancelot sounded like he was gritting his teeth. "He's saved my life twice over, and I know he's saved yours even more times. With magic."

Merlin sucked in a breath. They were definitely, definitely talking about him. Fighting about him.

"You make it sound like I care nothing for him," Arthur gritted out.

"Do you?" Lancelot. "Did you even look at his face when you—"

"I looked!" Arthur. "I saw! You think it didn't hurt me? You think I didn't—if you hadn't brought us here in the first place—"

"I know that." Lancelot sounded hoarse and terrible. "More than I can say, I regret calling him here. It is not the work of a knight to leave the field with barely a few scratches when the life of another is forfeit. But I didn't _know_ —you have to believe I didn't know I was putting him in that kind of danger, I would never—"

"But you did, you didn't think of what it might do to him—"

" _I_ didn't—you _never_ think, it's always all about you, you never care enough to—"

"I care—"

And then nothing.

Merlin's heart rose into his throat, and before he knew it he'd burst through the thick door into Arthur's room, not knowing what he would find.

But he wasn't expecting this.

Arthur and Lancelot turned their heads to look at him as he burst in, but they didn't move away from each other. Lancelot's back was to the wall, but he wasn't trying to push Arthur away. One of his hands was on Arthur's hip. The other was still tangled in his hair. And Arthur... Arthur's hands were against the wall, but his lips were swollen and wet.

"Oh," Merlin said blankly. "I. Sorry. I'll." He backed away, fumbling for the door behind him, feeling something thick and wild rise in his chest.

But Arthur stepped away from Lancelot and towards him, and Lancelot said, "No," very softly. The two of them froze, then looked at each other. Something Merlin didn't understand at all seemed to pass between them, and he gulped again, trying to swallow whatever pain it was in his throat.

And then they both— _prowled_ was the only word for it, they prowled towards him and he couldn't for the life of him catch his breath.

They were barely inches away before they stopped. They looked at each other again, and Lancelot nodded.

"Merlin," Arthur said softly, and Merlin's head snapped towards him. Arthur licked his lips, seeming almost nervous. "I wanted to say... I need to tell you that I... that you're... oh, _blast it_ ," and he reached out to take Merlin's chin with one hand and pull him closer.

And then—lips. Arthur's lips.

It was over too fast, and Merlin blinked at Arthur, feeling shocky and more stupid than he ever had in his life. Then Lancelot reached for his face too, and turned him, and there were more lips, Lancelot's lips. He felt himself make a small sound before Lancelot let him go.

Arthur pulled him around again with barely a pause, and this time his lips were there longer, a real kiss, and then—oh—tongue skating over his lips, and in his mouth, and somehow Merlin's arms had gone around Arthur and in his hair and now he knew why Lancelot had done that earlier because oh, soft. And Lancelot—yes, there was Lancelot, pressed against his back and that was—he was sucking on the back of Merlin's neck, biting little kisses, and that hard warm pressure against his—

Merlin tore his mouth away from Arthur's and gasped for air. Lancelot chuckled behind him. "Come on, both of you," he said, low and amused. Arthur nodded, but didn't look away from Merlin's mouth. Lancelot chuckled again, and pulled them both to the bed.

And then something happened, some spell or something that made the world blur until he was _naked_ , completely naked and Arthur was still kissing him and Lancelot's head was down by his stomach, and Merlin knew he was making completely embarrassing noises into Arthur's mouth that he couldn't stop at all. Plus, when the blur of clothing and limbs slowed a little, he knew Arthur was making the same noises.

Arthur wrenched away, gasping. "You... Merlin, you have done this before, right?"

"Yes—I—" Merlin tried to pull Arthur's mouth back. "Not quite like—of course, and not with—but I—yes, just, come here, _please_ Arthur—" And oh, yes, there was Arthur's mouth again. God, it was so sweet Merlin was sure he would never get enough, never want to get out of this bed, never even want to _think_ about anything—

—except Lancelot's _tongue_ , his—he was _licking_ right—right where—

Merlin felt his back arch and a cry like a falcon rip through his lips as he emptied what felt like his whole self into Lancelot's mouth, both hands clenching on Arthur's shoulders.

Lancelot's mouth gentled, and Arthur stroked his shoulders and chest as he came down, still gasping with pleasure. Lancelot sat up and wiped his mouth, looking smug. Arthur propped himself up on one shoulder and grinned at them both.

Merlin lay there for a minute, staring up at both of them, one light, one dark, two of the most beautiful, the bravest, the _best_ men he'd ever known. He couldn't help but break into a grin himself.

"Come on," he said to Lancelot, sitting up enough to pull on Lancelot's thighs until he straddled Merlin and his prick was in reach. It bobbed above Merlin's hip, full and dark, and when Merlin took it in hand it pulsed and Lancelot groaned.

"Definitely done this part before," Merlin said absently to Arthur, not taking his eyes off the steady rhythm of his hand. "Best thing to do in the village, unless you're sure of starting a family. But I always did enjoy it more than most." He speeded his motions, watching Lancelot's eyes fall closed and his mouth open, the muscles of his stomach twitching. "You learn things like _this_ ," Merlin said with a twist of his hand, and Lancelot yelled and let loose, striping Merlin's hip and stomach. Arthur echoed Lancelot with a strangled groan of his own, his prick pushing hard and hot against Merlin's hip.

Lancelot fell forward, panting into Merlin's neck. Merlin could feel giggles bubbling up, because as Lancelot's breath slowed Arthur's was only getting faster, and Arthur's hips were twitching against him. Merlin poked Lancelot. "Come on, Lancelot, not yet."

"Mmmm," Lancelot hummed, and licked Merlin's neck.

Merlin manfully held in his giggles. "Lancelot," he tried again. "Lancelot, we've left Arthur behind."

"You certainly have," Arthur panted, possibly aiming for severe but only hitting desperate.

"Mmm," Lancelot said again, this time more inquisitively, and heaved himself up. "You have any ideas?" He blinked sleepily down at Merlin and Arthur, his mouth curling up at the corners.

"Yes, actually," Merlin said. "Help me roll him over."

"No—what—" Arthur said, but he was already on his back, hips jerking helplessly into the air, Lancelot on one side and Merlin on the other.

"I know a bit about this, too," Merlin told Lancelot, scooting down the bed until his head was even with Arthur's hips.

"I would be honored to learn from you," Lancelot said gravely, eyes dancing.

"Oh, for—" Arthur panted, breathless, "just _do it_."

"As you command, _sire_ ," Merlin said, looking straight into Arthur's eyes, then dipped his head and took him all the way in, letting Lancelot hold Arthur's hips to the bed.

He pulled off with a pop, and nodded at Lancelot. Lancelot dove in, apparently doing something with tongue or teeth that had Arthur almost wailing. After that Merlin couldn't hold himself back any longer, and his world narrowed to Arthur's skin and Lancelot's lips and tongue against his mouth until Arthur let go with a great cry, Merlin's and Lancelot's mouths meeting around him.

Merlin ended up in the middle, somehow, but even with a warm man on either side he was the last to sleep. He lay on his back, staring at the stone ceiling, still somewhat stunned with—he didn't even know with what. Relief. Gratitude. It had been quite the day. Just as his eyes were starting to close, a thought occurred to him and he couldn't help but start to laugh weakly.

If this was what Arthur's reign as king would be like, he would have nothing to fear.

* * *

  


  
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